Yesterday, the Little One and I decided to go for a walk. My lower back has been bothering me and I knew that a nice long walk would loosen it up. The weather has turned cool - it barely made 70 yesterday. Last Monday, it was 99! So off we went around the neighborhood.
We always look at nature here in the 'burbs - watch for butterflies and birds, look at the trees and flowers. We stopped to admire (again) a huge old Live Oak and were discussing how old it is and the things which were going on when it was a little sprout - spontaneous history and science lesson, you know.
On the next block, there is a small but beautiful mulberry tree, very structural and already in its fall regalia. As we were walking toward it, I told LO to be careful, because the sidewalks are not in the best of shape in that area - many cracked and broken places, with many seams that "buck up" and are just right to catch toes of the unaware.
Well... the words were no sooner out of my mouth than... BAM! Caught the toe on my right foot and stumbled forward... as I was falling - you know this always happens in slow motion - I got my left foot under me, then stumbled forward on my right, thinking I could "catch" myself.... but no. No such luck. I FELL forward and - somehow - the old, old manuever that was drilled into us in volleyball and basketball practice in high school kicked in, and I rolled onto my shoulder and landed juuuust to the side of the walk, in the grass. If I hadn't I would have landed face-first on the concrete.
Little One was screaming and I was trying to calm her down while checking to see if anything was broken. Took me a couple of minutes to get up - I am 5'10" and not a small girl, so I hit hard! LO was crying and asking if I was going to die... she'd never seen her MOM fall before! I was finally able to get up and limp the 4 blocks or so home. As we were walking, I felt a pain in my left foot, near my toes, and discovered that somehow a stick had gone between my shoe and foot and jabbed an inch long wound into my foot - only about a 1/8 inch from a large vein in my toe.
Got home, washed off, changed out of my dirty, grass-stained, been-rolling-around-on-the-ground clothes, doctored the foot, and chilled. This morning, I feel as though I have been run over by a small bus, but thankfully I have no major injuries. Except to my pride!
LO asked me if I thought anyone saw me fall, and I told her that I have no idea, but if they did, they sure didn't come out to check on me. I would have run out had I seen someone take a tumble like that in front of our home, but that is just me. I guess I will have to assume that no one saw me. And I kind of like it that way! Why is it that falling is so embarrassing to us, when it happens to us all at one time or another, and is in no way our fault?
I plan to try to walk again today - got to get right back in the saddle! But you can bet I'll be watching for that sinister sidewalk to jump up and take me down, and warning LO to do the same. :-)
2 comments:
Ouch! Hurts the pride as much as the body. :)
I understand. I was making sticky buns for some volunteers we were working with. I forgot the frosting in the camper, so I rushed up our three, little stairs and fell. I hit my shin on the metal. I didn't even look down, I just grabbed the frosting and started heading out the door. My husband hollered for me to stop. I looked down and my sock was soaked in blood. I must of hit it just wrong. Blood was every where! My kids thought I was so tough. They even kept the blood soaked sock! Like I told my husband, being a mom is not for sissys!
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